Fandoms are Cool @fannishstuff - Tumblr Blog

it’s so special to me that so much of fan culture is textual analysis for the love of the game. like thank god there are people in my phone who are also thinking about this thing i love so much that they are writing transformative fiction as character studies and setting clips of the show to music with theme-relevant lyrics and writing long text posts analyzing every line of dialogue like!! yay!!!

thebibliosphere

I feel like Bruce Wayne projects the kind of amiable playboy 'fun' vibe that he'd be the type of celebrity that certain interviewers feel comfortable surprising with puppies.

You know the kind of shows I mean.

The late-night talk show situations where they're making benign small talk with their smiling guest, and there's a segment where animals get brought out, usually to talk about some sort of ecological relief effort.

So you're watching your trash TV talk show late at night, and you get to watch billionaire pretty boy Bruce Wayne be begrudgingly talked into holding a (relatively) harmless creature which inevitably gets a lot of delighted shrieks from the audience as it starts being a lot more active than the handler promised. And to his credit, Bruce doesn't flinch, he doesn't freak out. But his eyes are a little wide, and his voice a little tight as the smile on his face takes on a slight rictus quality before he's inevitably rescued by an apologetic handler who is also laughing because they all know there was no real danger, it was just funny to put Bruce, who is an undeniable good sport and already laughing along, out of his comfort zone for the sake of charity.

Meanwhile, up in the Justice League headquarters, several founding members of the League are wondering how fast they can get a fake Oscar award shipped to the space station because fuck off. Absolutely fuck off, Bruce. Where the fuck did he study? Juilliard? (Probably.)

(Clark ends up going to a novelty store during the commercial break. It's faster than trying to get anything shipped, even with the infrastructure Bats built for them. He finds it several days later taped to his console in a conspicuously empty briefing room. It's gaudy and awful, the words "Best Actor" engraved on the plaque. No one's around to see him smile. No one comments when it vanishes. Everyone thinks it's been yeeted out an airlock. Dick absolutely comments when it shows up in the manor, stashed in one of the trophy cases that sprung up for all the bat kids' school awards. Bruce has no idea how it got there. Must have been Alfred. (It was not.))

Anyway, consider, for your amusement, Bruce Wayne getting highjacked on The Gotham Toight Show with a handful of wriggling puppies and, for a split second, not having to pretend he's delighted to be there.

thebibliosphere

I need you all to know this was in my queue, so it jump scared me when it popped up on my dash, but that I also misread "puppies" as "puppets," and now I'm choking to death on my water imagining Bruce Wayne on a guest panel with Kermit the Frog and Ms. Piggy whose puppeteer is absolutely shooting their shot through the medium of puppetry.

thebibliosphere

"Bruce Wayne, everyone. What a fantastic guy. All right, don't go anywhere, folks, we'll be right back after the commercial break when we'll be joined by the legendary Kermit the Frog and the effervescent Miss Piggy as they promote their latest movie, The Muppets Take Metropolis!"

The applause is deafening for a moment as the live band behind the podium strikes up a lively tune, ushering them into a commercial break.

"Really, thank you, Bruce," Murray Franklin says over the noise, angling his mouth away from the microphone on his desk. "You couldn't have got me to hold that fucking thing for all the money in the world."

Bruce inclines his head, a benign smile ever in place. "Oh, you know me, Murray. I'll try anything once."

"Well, that sounds promising," says a shrill, familiar. Bruce turns in time to find stagehands working rapid-time to construct a staging area behind the couch. And two humans holding two very distinct puppets aloft. Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy.

"Hi-ho, Kermit the Frog here." The frog puppet extends a hand toward him, causing a ripple of laughter to go up from the audience. Bruce arches an eyebrow at the puppeteer but reaches out to take the felt-green hand being offered to him. Apparently, he's not supposed to engage with the humans. "This is my companion, Miss Pigathia Lee."

"Mr. Frog," he greets the muppet formally, feeling the first hint of a genuine smile tugging at his mouth. "Charmed to meet both of you. I'm a big fan of your work."

"Oh, gosh! Really?" The Frog gushes, emoting the pure joy Bruce remembers from watching television as a child. "I could say the same to you! All that good work you do for the city! It's really something."

"Thank you." Don't cry, Bruce thinks suddenly. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry.

Christ, it's like Mister Rogers telling you you did a good job.

"All right, save it for the camera," Murray interjects good-naturedly, pressing a finger to his ear and listening to whatever the producer is saying on the other end.

"Mr. Wayne?" Bruce turns to find his handler waiting for him, a makeup artist behind him. "Can we ask you to move over for this next part?"

"Of course." Bruce shuffles over. As he leans back, arm stretched out across the back of the couch he realizes what they're doing. They're using his bulk to block the sight of the puppeteers from the angle of the fourth camera. Clever.

He sits placidly as the makeup artist dusts powder over his face, listening to the instructions about how to talk to the muppets. Don't look at the puppeteers, look at the puppets. Treat them like real people. Try to keep it pg-13. Just act natural.

Natural, he thinks, his eyes skirting up to the stage beams and the shadows hovering above them. There's nothing natural about being Bruce Wayne.

"And we're live in five, four, three, two, one..."

The music swells to rising applause, and his smile slips back in place, as firm and solid as his armor. He zones out as Murray goes through the introductions. He's learned that no one minds if Bruce Wayne looks a little checked out at times. Christ, he's tired. He's half tempted not to go on patrol tonight. There's a dull ache building behind his eyes, and his ribs still hurt from getting hit with a crowbar. He hopes Dick is all right. Last night's patrol had been hard on both of them, hard enough that Dick had to miss school and spend the day in bed. Though he'd gotten up before Bruce left, adamant that he wanted to watch him make a fool of himself on television. He hopes no one else is watching. He hopes there's a mild disaster happening somewhere, and he won't have to listen to Clark ribbing him about how good he is with children and animals. Again. It's like being made fun of by a slice of apple pie.

Slowly, he becomes aware of the presence beside him. Bruce looks down to find Miss Piggy staring up at him, snout turned upward, head tilted in a manner that heavily suggests flirtation. Oh God

"Not that you have anything to worry about, Mister Wayne," the high, piping voice of Kermit the Frog informs him. "Gotham's far too damp for us Muppets to want to take over Wayne Tech, too."

Bruce smiles. He's vaguely aware of the plot of The Muppets Take Metropolis. Something about taking over LexCorp. He's surprised Luthor green-lit it. The other billionaire is normally so precious about being taken seriously.

"Oh, I don't know about that, there are lots of nice swamps around here," he says, gaze still on the amorous pig puppet inching closer to him. "Mud baths, too."

"Really?" Miss Piggy drawls, flicking her blonde wig over her shoulder, much to the amusement of the audience. "And are any of these mud baths on Wayne ground?"

He can't help but smile properly at that, mouth crooking to the side. He supposes he should have seen this coming. "Oh, yes," he says, inflecting the famous Bruce Wayne charm into his voice. "More than you can shake a stick at."

When the puppet's hand comes to rest its hand on his arm, his laughter is genuine. This might be the surrealist fucking thing that's happened to him in a while. And that's saying something because he got dosed with fear toxin last week.

"Now, Brucie," Miss Piggy drawls, "Don't tempt a girl with a good time."

Some absurd instinct makes him angle his body toward the muppet, smiling down at it like a real person. "Oh, Piggy Lee, you should know I never tempt. I can call you, Piggy Lee, can't I?"

"Honey, you can call me a cab because I'm ready! Let's skedaddle!"

"Well, how about that!" Murray exclaims, drawing the attention back to him as the audience loses it. "Kermit, he's trying to steal your girl!"

The Frog turns to look at him, to Miss Piggy, then back to Bruce. "Y'know something, Murray, I don't mind. Say, Bruce, are, uh, are any of those swamps nearby?"

Oh, he's never going to live this one down.

***

"So what's it like?" Clark asks, tone deceptively neutral.

"What's what like?" Batman asks, tone sliding like gravel over sheet metal.

"Meeting the Muppets?"

He thinks about it. "Surprisingly hard to look at the humans."

Clark nods sagely. "I've heard that."

thebibliosphere

The amount of psychic damage I'm taking from the tag "Bruce Wayne Muppet Threesome" is not insignificant, but I suppose I had it coming.

Also, because I might as well ride this crackfic into the Lazarus Pit:

The Muppets eventually do make a film with Gotham in it. The premise starts not unlike the other Muppet movies, where the Muppets are fractured, and Kermit is trying to get the gang back together. For this, he must travel around the US, finding the location of the other Muppets.

When the time comes to find Miss Piggy, the screen cuts to Wayne Manor, the other Muppets standing outside the imposing iron gates.

"Well, we tried," Rizzo intones nasally, already walking off. Gonzo catches him around the neck, hauling him back.

"Where are you going?"

"Home! What, you think she's going to leave Bruce Wayne?"

Kermit's face goes through numerous stages of grief before squaring into the kind of grim determination that can only happen when you have a fist for a jaw. "We have to try," the Frog affirms, then stoically presses the gate buzzer.

The scene cuts to inside the manor, where Miss Piggy is shown lounging on an opulent chaise, surrounded by immense wealth and luxury. Empty bottles of champagne everywhere and an inordinate amount of food. It's clear there was a party last night. She is dressed not unlike Debbie from the Addams family, her face covered by a fluffy pink eyemask embroidered in gold thread that reads "Wake Me In Paris" in gaudy, swirling font. In the background, a picture of Bruce Wayne and Miss Piggy can be seen on a table. The frame is neon pink and shaped like a heart. Bruce looks happier than he's ever done in his entire life. (Probably because he couldn't stop cracking up when it was being taken.)

There's a knock at the door, and she wakes with a snort, ripping away the eyemask. "What?" she demands harshly before correcting herself into a more ladylike twinkle. "I mean, who is it?"

Alfred appears as firm and imperious as ever. Perfectly straight-faced. "Forgive me, madame, but we appear to have a common rabble at the door."

"So? Release the hounds. Brother, do I have to think of everything around here?"

Alfred clears his throat, the slightest twitch of a smile on his face. It's gone before the camera can narrow in on it. "It appears they are friends of yours, madame. Ah, one Mister Kermit the Frog and, um, associates."

"Kermi!" she exclaims before she can stop herself. "I mean, uh, very well, send them in."

The Muppets traipse into the opulent room, googly eyes roaming everywhere in astonishment. "Wow," Gonzo breathes.

"Food!" Rizzo exclaims, lunging toward the comestibles and shoving his face into a bowl.

Gonzo hauls him back, glancing at Alfred apologetically. "Sorry.

But Kermit only has eyes for Ms Piggy. "You look well, Pigathia," he says solemn and sincere.

"I do? I mean, of course, I do." She harumphs, turning her back on him. "How could I not? I'm only the wealthiest pig in the world." She turns back, expression coy over her shoulder. "What do you want?"

"Well, we're trying to get the old gang back together. Our old theaters being shut down, and I just thought that maybe one last show might--"

"That's why you're here. For the show?"

Kermit takes a deep, shuddering breath. "No. That's not why I'm here. Gosh darnit, Piggy Lee, I want you back. I love you, and I know deep down" -- "way down," Rizzo supplies before getting elbowed -- "that you love me too."

She turns slowly. As though drawn by some invisible string. Her expression falls. "I do. I did. Once upon a time. But Kermi... Bruce takes care of me."

"I'll say--" "Rizzo!"

She carries on as if the others hadn't spoken. "I know you love me. But I also know I'll only ever be second best to the show. With Bruce," she sighs dreamily. "He's rich, handsome, and most importantly, dumb as a rock. I'm the most important pig in town. I'm practically running the joint. You really think I'm going to give up all this." She gestures around the grandeur. "For a penniless Frog who can't see past the next show?"

"Well..." Kermit hesitates, face falling. "Yes. I guess... I guess I did."

Gonzo and Rizzo share a look. "I think we better go," Gonzo says, placing a consoling hand on Kermit's shoulder. "Come on, guys. It was nice seeing you again, Piggy."

"Yeah, real nice," Rizzo intones, shoving as much food into his pockets as his little rat hands can grab.

Kermit shakes himself. "No. I refuse to believe it! This isn't you, Piggy Lee. You might think it is, but it isn't. All this wealth, the silk robes, the fancy food. I know you, Piggy Lee; I know you better than anyone, and you're not this shallow. You're a performer, a star. You were made to be loved by the stage. Not just some... some billionaire playboy who can give you whatever you want whenever you want. I have to believe that because otherwise, what the heck has it all been for? What have we been for? So what do you say, Pigathia? Will you come home? Come back to the show where you belong. For me?"

There's a long, heavy pause, and Miss Piggy sighs.

The following scene cuts to the Muppets flailing down the Wayne Manor driveway, yelling comically as several snarling rottweilers chase them.

"And stay out!" Miss Piggy yells after them. When she turns back to Alfred, she resumes her ladylike poise. "Alfie, be a dear and tell Brucie I'll be home late tonight. Mama's got some shopping to do."

"Very good, Madame."

She eventually shows up at the Muppet show at the last minute to save the day, a happy, bumbling Bruce tagging beside her. Later, when the Muppets are all on stage, the human protagonists, who are in the audience and seated next to Bruce, remark, "Wow, I can't believe they raised the money to save the theater!"

"They didn't," Bruce says with a small, knowing smile. His gaze turns to Miss Piggy adoringly, sighing wistfully. "But I just can't say no to that pig."

Henceforth it becomes Muppet canon that Miss Piggy and Bruce Wayne are in a heated on-again-off-again relationship. Neither Kermit nor Bruce seems to mind each other, leading to an episode of Sesame Street several years down the line where Elmo explains that sometimes a child can have one mommy and no daddy, or one daddy and no mommy, or have one daddy and one mommy, or two daddys and no mommies or vice versa, and sometimes if you're the Wayne kids, a daddy, a frog, and a pig.

Bruce will never live it down, but it's worth it. Letting the Muppets into his life is possibly the best longcon of his life. Who the fuck is going to believe he's Batman now? No one. Not even the butts matching can hold up to him being Miss Piggy and Kermit's sidepiece.

insomniac-arrest

I don’t think any movie will make me feel the same ethereal sense of otherworldly sorrow and disembodied awe as that scene in Lord of the Rings where the loyal son is sent off into a doomed battle to please his vindictive father while Pippin sings a mourning song of his people

I was like 12 and high off this shit

lotrlocked

These movies CHANGED ME

jaskierxyennefer

This is one of my favourite parts of the whole trilogy. It’s haunting.

ink-splotch

And that Pippin takes actually a happy walking song of his people, because Hobbit songs are generally happy and about food and drink and gifts and things, and *transforms* it into a mourning song.

The song is from Fellowship, before all the heavy plot hits and they’re still in the Shire. It’s about walking, and how eventually all the bad things that scare or sadden you will fade away and you’ll be home warm by the fire.

And Pippin takes it, changes the lines, the key, and sings a song that is truly fit for Denethor’s great hall.

fiddlepickdouglas

Knowing Billy Boyd gave his own melody to it and everyone had chills after hearing him sing it. This is how you get actors involved with the story and character, this is how amazingly well these films were cast. Fans have been singing that haunting tune in echoing halls and caves and towers for 20 years now and it never loses its beauty.

moonybyte

Home is behind

The world ahead

And there are many paths to tread

Through shadow

To the edge of night

Until the stars are all alight

Mist and shadow

Cloud and shade

All shall fade

All shall

Fade

photogirl894

And even better: Billy Boyd composed the tune to the song and then performed it for Peter Jackson and everyone else while filming. They only did one take! That very first take is the one that’s used in the film! He’s just that good!!

freenarnian

Every now and then I like to pull up this video of Billy Boyd being endearing and silly and choked up about Boromir’s death scene, and then performing this song upon request:

occasionallysubtle

bringin' back one of my fave series cuz fmab & cowboy bebop are takin longer than anticipated ~ snag these thru March 7th :)

qoolk

- "Don't call me that!"

I'X AOMLW PZVE! TV OLE SMVH OQ BCMS NPZEP NWPRTPZKERE!! RPWT WWJO AE PJA MFKC XHTA ASUC-MTID DQS-JIYOZVEC QN EFCIDH OQ UZ LASI! VRD T KVR'T PDZR CZVOVOW PDW BCWOLEC'A WSDJ.. EZPL, EPVX'S QWM ROH. Q RSNOMM LOH UVRY EQHIS SM MIPWITID TV CMS SMVH "WSIO MF SM'N ELTDZ, AHLB DJ I XIYI TSM RVOYO XLOTKZ? AHZ EJYLO Q WI?" AYL MMGSB ISW SM MIAWQUIS SWR QUNP CI MTANID!

bk-poetry

I still don't understand how fanfiction.lol differs from AO3. The only two key things I could find in your article were volunteer burnout and the fact that AO3 has a signup queue.

How do you plan on preventing burnout on fanfiction.lol? And if the site gets too big too fast, how will you avoid implementing a signup queue?

(Fwiw I don't think the queue is a problem at all. I joined AO3 mid last year and was not waiting longer than a week)

the key difference is that it is different, it is by me instead of OTW.

anybody can fork the otwarchive source code and make their own version of AO3.

I have many different projects on the Internet, I just think it's fun to do things and see what happens.

[hubris] I don't see me getting burnout from this, since it's mostly just bug fixing which I deeply enjoy, and I have multiple helpful amazing mods/wranglers already.

[hubris x2] I also really don't see the site getting big enough that I would have to worry about queueing. There are more people getting into the weeds of the discourse than have actually signed-up (and the whole reason I made it was because I really don't care about discourse).

olderthannetfic

I'm really getting the sense that a lot of people around here have never encountered any activists for a human-centered internet.

People paying out of their own pocket to make a neat thing exist because the internet was better when we had wacky personal webshrines is such a normal part of my online experience. I suppose I do see those discussions today in more of a tech guy blogosphere kind of context though and not as much in fanfic spaces.

To me, this all instantly passes the sniff test. I get it. Whether it's for me and whether your hubris will bite you in the ass is another story, but I get it. For people who find all of this culturally alien, it seems to be raising illusory red flags due to a lack of context.

(Reblogging so people can go follow fanfictiondotlol if they want more updates.)

petr1kov

billford.mp4

fuckyeahmysterytwins

has this been done before

enriquemzn262

The story of British Airways Flight 009.

dryiffsrevitalizingtailholetonic

enriquemzn262

Holy cow I absolutely adore British humor!

carpe-mamilia

Captain Moody on QI:

charity-angel

There's a few bits that need adding to the awesomeness of this story:

1. There exists a club, started by Captain Moody, called the Gallunggung Gliders Club.

Everyone on the plane is a member. They are still in contact.

2. This flight held the record for the longest ever unpowered glide in a commercial air liner for just short of 13 months. The Gimli Glider beat it on 23 July 1983 (Air Canada flight 143, which famously ran out of fuel due to a metric/imperial conversation error).

3. A lot of the height lost in the glide was actually done on purpose. The first officer's oxygen mask wasn't functional, and Captain Moody decided he would rather have his entire flight crew available to problem solve, so they did an emergency descent to breathable air rather than sacrifice the FO to hypoxia and retain height.

They knew this was problematic, because of the mountains - if they couldn't get at least 2 engines lit, they had no chance of making a landing (hence the preparation for ditching). But it was very likely the right call as the FO worked diligently with the flight engineer to get the engines running.

4. The electro-magnetic interference caused by the volcanic dust messed with their radios, and it took them a long time, and help from another plane, to get Air Traffic Control to understand what was happening. ATC thought it was just a single engine failure for a long time, and wondered what all the fuss was about.

5. When they managed to get power back, and turned around, they flew back into the dust cloud. They had engine failures again, radio issues, static effects on the windshield... They quickly decided "fuck that" and descended to clear air. They had to fly almost dangerously low the whole way back to Jakarta. And then put the thing down while blind.

6. Even though it was the first time the dangers of volcanic ash clouds came into the awareness of the international flying community, LOADS of pilots and engineers in Jakarta took one look at the sandblasted plane and correctly identified what had happened.

(sadly not the last time teachable incidents that didn't occur in Europe or North America were ignored by Europe and North America and it bit people in the ass...)

thestuffedalligator

They’ve been rebuilding the Tower of Babel, but this time they have a team of linguists on site. Every time God smites the builders and invents a dozen new languages, the linguists have a dozen decently sized translations in about a month and work can start up again.

The linguists have been really into it. They say the new phonemes are fascinating. As for God, I assume that at this point he’s just curious to see how far this goes.

somethingusefulfromflorida

To keep us on out toes, God gives the next group of builders an extra place of articulation called the flongus between the pharynx and the glottis, creating an entire new column of the IPA chart with sounds between sounds that are literally physiologically impossible for non-flongled people to replicate.

somethingusefulfromflorida

Improved symbols for the flongal plosives ("gacks"), flongal trill ("hacks"), flongal fricatives ("groans"), and and the flongal lateral approximant ("moans")

inthefallofasparrow

Update: The builders have now simply switched to communicating entirely through a universal sign language like they should've done to start with. No sounds need be spoken, flongal or otherwise. The Tower steadily rises. Be seeing you soon, God, you little bitch.

koth-harvest-final

update: the builders are all speaking different sign languages now

therealbeachfox

Update: Third cycle since the above. The builders now all have between four and seven fingers (including thumb) making the latest round of lingua-ex-dues exceedingly difficult to cross translate.

Everyone is now being taught Esperanto.

therealbeachfox

Update 37: God’s given up on messing with languages. Yesterday, everyone started using different measuring systems that use the same unit terms for slightly different lengths.

traffic-wizard

Happily the plane has landed safely using a glider technique hitherto unused on commercial jets

ovadrive

castellankurze

The Gimli Glider is one of those stories where every aspect sounds more fake than the last and yet it all actually happened.

-A passenger plane was underloaded with fuel because Canada had just converted to the metric system and everyone supposed to double check their numbers got it wrong. -When the plane ran out of fuel they were too far away to make it to an in-service airport and had to head towards the Gimli military base. Which was shuttered. -They were coming in to fast due to a lack of flaps control and had to perform a series of slips (as shown in the video above) to slow down, basically drifting a giant passenger plane. -As they come down they realized that just because Gimli’s been decommissioned doesn’t mean it’s abandoned because a bunch of people are having drag races on the runway they’re about to need. -Despite everything they managed to land safely and no one was killed or even hurt which is why it’s one of the best air disasters to meme on.

zanmor

The Wikipedia page on this is fantastic and my favorite line from it is “Flying with all engines out was never expected to occur, so it had never been covered in training.”

lesferatu

Nice

electricpentacle

Nice.

alex-the-bordercollie

Ford's autism

K so I don't think I need to defend the interpretation Ford is on the spectrum. People make jokes about him being autistic all the time. We all see it. What I want to do here is sort of connect together some character details and examine them through the lense of my own autistic experiences.

I wanna start with his hands. It's an observation I've seen from multiple people that Ford is insecure about his hands and often hides them behind his back or in his pockets. And yeah, he is obviously insecure about them. He even mentions his six fingers at times when they aren't really relevant to anything. It just showcases the space this physical deviation of his takes up in his mind. And yes, it makes sense that he's insecure about them because he was bullied for them growing up. I want to add to this observation.

Ford would have been bullied regardless.

The problem was never really his hands. When you're on the spectrum people around you can tell that you're weird. Uncanny. Something is different and feels wrong about you to NT people, especially kids. They will pick any shallow superficial thing they can find as an excuse to bully you and justify the sense of revulsion they feel around you but can't articulate. If Ford had been born with normal hands they just would have made fun of him for something else, it would have been his glasses, or the movies he liked, or hell maybe some good old-fashioned antisemitism. Literally, any excuse they could find.

I know growing up I tried for years to change the things about me that I was made fun of for and it never made things any better. The bullying never stopped. "Fixing" things about myself didn't work because the thing that was actually "broken" was something fundamental to who I am. That realization as a kid was soul-crushing. That there was nothing I could do that would ever make me "normal", that would ever make people like me. I felt like an alien born on the wrong planet.

Ford continues to latch onto his hands as a sore spot because they're something simple and obvious he can point to as an excuse for why he's so outcast. He probably knows by this point that the hands aren't actually the problem. I'd argue this journal entry and his comment about "another failed social interaction" shows that he's aware his hands aren't actually the problem. But, it is a lot easier to fixate on those than to dwell directly on that sinking feeling that at the core of you're being you are fundamentally weird, wrong, unlovable. Ford's a genius. If his polydactyly bothered him that much he could have removed the extra digits. The hands aren't the problem, they're a symbol of a more fundamental kind of pain.

Looking at it through this context also makes the gloves Fiddleford gives him an extra sweet gift given what they represent. A kind of wholehearted acceptance of who Ford is and even a willingness to adapt to his unique needs just to show him love and affection. I think something that hurts me so much about their relationship is that Ford had someone who very clearly loved him as is and would have never wanted him to be someone or something else, and Ford was too stubborn to fully appreciate that.

The same is true of Stanely by the by. He never had a problem with his brother being weird. Another relationship with someone who loved Ford as is but who Ford took for granted. He needs these kinds of relationships in his life. People who embrace and accept him for the weirdo he is. He needs them desperately, which gets me to my next point.

Ford's ego. So it's also a common observation that Ford has a massive ego. He's kind of an ass, to put it mildly. But I have had someone in conversation frame it like the pressure to prove themselves was just on Stanley and Ford just spent his whole life being hyped up and told he was hot shit. This isn't true, or at least it's a flattening of his experiences.

Ford was praised for his genius. This is true. But his own father only gave a shit when said genius showed signs of netting material gains for the family. It only mattered cause Ford could be useful. Furthermore, this genius never netted him social acceptance from his peers growing up. He was still a bullied, weirdo, loser most of his childhood. Add that seeing Stanley kicked out would have drilled into Ford's head that if he couldn't make something out of himself his family wouldn't want him either. Stan was an unspoken threat of what this family does to failures.

Gonna bring up my own personal experiences again. Having set the stage for how it feels growing up on the spectrum. That feeling of alienness that you can't really explain. I loved to write and draw from a very young age. Moreover, as I got older I realized that when I drew, people were nice to me. The only time I got social acceptance was when people were admiring or praising me for my art. So I did it more and more, I devoted myself feverishly to my art. I loved it anyway and would have hyper-fixated on it regardless but the positive reinforcement turned art from something I loved to a need. I NEEDED to be an artist. I needed to be the best at my school. I needed all eyes on my work because it was the only way I could make friends. The only way I could prove that I had value. That I deserved a place in society.

I see that in Ford. I see his ego not as shallow narcissism but as an overwhelming need to prove his value as a person. To be loved and accepted and believing that no one will want him if he isn't brilliant. If he doesn't change the world. If he isn't useful. This is also why he couldn't bring himself to destroy his research even knowing it was the safest and most responsible option. Burning down everything he worked for would mean finally giving up on the fantasy of ever being accepted or valuable.

The sad thing is he's so single-mindedly fixated on this personal goal of proving his worth to the world that when people do come along that love him unconditionally he takes them for granted. These people are statistical anomalies in his life. Nice to have around, but not enough to fix the bigger problem. They aren't reflective of society at large. They aren't enough to prove that he, personally, is loveable. Just that on occasion he meets another weirdo. For a while it's nice. Like a campfire in a barren tundra. But he has to keep moving, he can't stay. Warmer lands are ahead if he can just get to them. If he can just keep moving.

This also is why Ford was so susceptible to Bill. Bill told Ford what he wanted to hear. That he was destined for greatness. That, the fundamental wrongness he felt all his life was something incredible other people just couldn't see. Bill promised Ford exactly what he wanted, but not what he actually needed. Ford never needed the world at large to accept him. He just needed a few good people.

I also think his chemistry with Bill was connected to his autistic experiences as well. Bill is literally an alien. There's no pressure to mask around him. To try and "act normal". Ford can just be himself with Bill and not have to think about it. And sure, he could be himself around Fiddleford, but Fidds is still human. The anxieties of human social expectations are still present. Like when Fidds get him a gift for the holidays and Ford feels a bit guilty that it didn't even occur to him to do the same. He doesn't have to think about these social nuances with Bill.

That said I'm sure Bill isn't what his world would have considered neurotypical anyway. Not that Ford would know that. But Bill was also a strange freak in his own society. Just as outcast, possibly more so. I think Bill sees a bit of his own experiences reflected in Ford. I think he relates to him on a level. Not that he would ever admit it outright due to his own ego. I think Bill's fixation on him after the breakup also stems from Ford rejecting the path that Bill chose for himself. Bill still lives with some sort of deeply repressed guilt for what he did. Imagine how validating it would have been to see someone else like him burn their own world to the ground for the same reasons Bill did. But no, Ford's a better man than him, and Bill can't stand it.

Ok, I don't know how to end this long-ass monologue so I'm gonna call it here I guess. I just wanted to spill some thoughts of mine about Ford as a character. If anyone else wants to add to this with other examinations of Ford's character through this lense go right ahead. I'm just saying as an autistic person myself I understand every choice Ford made. I could relate to why he did the things he did even if I know those were mistakes and even acknowledging that he's kind of an asshole. Ford is a strange man who makes an eerie amount of sense to me.

alex-the-bordercollie

Adding one more addendum. A thought that occurred to me after the fact. I mention that Stanley is someone who loved Ford unconditionally like Fiddleford did and while I think this is still mostly true, Ford has kind of valid reason to believe otherwise.

Stan cheated off his brother for years. To the point, it was a regular mundane occurrence that Ford just blindly accepted about their relationship. Why wouldn't he? His relationship with his parents is transactional, why would he expect to be different with his brother? Now while there's no malice on Stanley's end here it makes sense Ford assumes Stan sabotaged him on purpose. Ford is used to only receiving positive reinforcement from people when he's useful to them and Stanley has proven over the years that he isn't above taking advantage of Ford's abilities to benefit himself. This man is used to being burned and people wanting things from him. That perceived betrayal from Stanley hits much harder when you consider that he probably wanted to believe that Stan was different and would want what was best for him.

I think Ford's less angry about missing out on his dream school, (Which is still a big deal mind you. That's not a small thing.) and more deeply hurt that the one person he thought loved him unconditionally turned out to have selfish intentions and was willing to drag him down so he could keep benefiting from him.

It also makes sense then that Ford is so easily pushed into paranoia about Fiddleford. He is already primed to expect that the people closest to him want something from him. It's not hard to make him suspicious of the intentions of someone who seemingly has very little to gain from him.

Ironically Bill might feel weirdly more trustworthy due to Bill being kind of upfront about their relationship being transactional. The portal is framed as a mutually beneficial collaboration, aka a transaction in which both parties benefit. Bill in general often approaches people in a transactional fashion which likely feels honest to someone who's used to people wanting things from him and acting like they don't. Also, a history of being exploited can make someone easier to exploit as they may become desensitized to a lot of red flags.

I love Stanley and I'm not blaming him for Ford's issues, but I do think he helped to contribute to them unintentionally. I think being burned by Stanley someone Ford thought he could trust is a big contributor to why he couldn't easily accept that Fiddleford really was genuinely trying to look out for his well-being and had no self-serving intentions.

heavbaint

This is such an interesting analysis and I agree so much omg- thank you for putting into words what my feelings are- i struggle w that shit oh my lord y’all are awesome